2013-12-03 - Special Delivery
WildCATS Secret HQ, inside Mount Rushmore. "The thing about secret headquarters," Emp grouses to Hadrian as the much-shorter man toddles beside Spartan, "is they are meant to /stay/ secret. Which is difficult to maintain when there are people-- for now I won't name names-- who cannot be bothered not to cause minor explosions whenever they get into bickering matches with their current--" the man cuts himself off, diplomatically, perhaps, as the door to the 'rec area' slides open. The man known to most of the world as Jacob Marlowe rubs his temples as he observes what form of recreation his covert team has turned to. Maul and Voodoo were leaning against one of the walls, watching Zealot-- lady Zannah-- and Grifter-- actually, that name works better for him than his given one-- 'spar'. The short Kheran lord snorts derisively. "One man's practice is another man's foreplay," he comments dryly. Zealot calmly danced with her swords. If by 'danced' one meant slash at someone with blades so finely blaanced they could cleave electrons off a molecule, not particularly caring about holding back. Her finely honed senses monitoring thigns about her, in a state of Zen as she was one with her blades. Zealot? Holding back? You'd be more likely to see Majestros making out with Helspont. Fortunately, the target of Zealot's not-holding-backness is, for the moment, capable of holding his own. Grifter is actually using a simple staff...which is far from his favored weapon, but he still wields it with a considerable degree of expertise. Still, he's definitely on the defensive, narrowly deflecting one blade (on the flat, of course, to avoid getting his staff sliced up) while pivoting his body away from the second, dropping down into a sweep-kick that proves to be a feint, as he brings the staff around to follow up with a second attempt to sweep Zealot of her feet er...literally speaking. Cole Cash smirks, his voice only a touch breathless as he hears Emp's words. "You're just jealous, Jake." Hadrian, meanwhile, makes a cursory scan of both combatants, watching them with passing interest, "I spoke with Cole about it, Sir. The simulation chamber will be back up to full capability by tomorrow afternoon. And reinforced to resist Cole's spontaneous explosion powers." Yes, Hadrian is making a joke at Cole's expense because Grifter is totally the punching bag here. Possibly both literally -and- figuratively. Zealot's swords again slash, sparks going off from thier connection over at the blade as she reversed, spinning as both sabers spun downward to intersect with th epath fo the blade then in a block as the blades and the staff ricocheted once again, a powerful kick lashing out at the side of Grifter's head then as Zealot once again twirled from defense to offense. "Silence your prattle unless you wish to join the battle." Her words directed over at those who were elocuting such minor taunts. "Excellent," Marlowe replies, pointedly ignoring Cole. His eyes scan the room, settling on Maul and Voodoo-- though before he can greet them, Warblade wanders in. Emp's brow furrows. "If all of you are here," he says rather patiently, "who is in the monitor room?" The three youngest of the WildCATS all look at each other, and Maul and Warblade both take off quickly. "Looks like it's supposed to be those two," Voodoo comments. The thing about secret headquarters is that they are supposed to be secret. The problem with secrets is that they aren't exactly easy to keep-- especially when the person seeking them knows what to look for. The black-garbed figure slinks along the unguarded corridor with a cloaked smaller figure at her side. "I'm scared--" the smaller figure whimpers quietly, but is cut off and silenced by the woman in black. She thumbs out her blade, drawing it and keeping it ready. She has no illusions that her arrival will be a happy one. "Shush, child. You will be safe here, but we must get to--" A light blinks faster at the end of the corridor. In the monitor room, just as the two Kheran-descended 'CATS arrive, the alarms flash on the consoles. In the rec room, the alarms flash in a pattern indication intrusion. Grifter does indeed get caught by Zealot's kick, but he rolls with enough of it that the impact causes minimal damage, and tucks his entire body into a combat-roll to gain some distance from his sparring partner and source of "it's complicated" relationship updates on social media (no, he doesn't -really- do social media, for the record, but if he -did- it would totally be "It's complicated"). He's bringing the staff back up to a defensive stance when the alarms go off. "Saved by the bell!" Cole Cash bolts away from Zealot, moving over to the side of the room where his pistols are lying and plucking them from their holsters. "Let's go see who's stupid enough to break in!" He says with all the mock-cheerfulness he can muster, though the expression on his face is...considerably more cold. Hadrian glances towards the Alarm, and patches himself into the security system, "Maul, Warblade...close the doors behind them." He pipes into the monitor room, relaying information to Emp and the others as they start to move, "Two intruders...Corridor 3. Not moving fast. Odd." Before her swords could lash out and slash out his throat, the alarm rings. Right before they would have bisected his head from his body. Or so Zealot would have liked to think if this were anything more intense than a spar. "Then we will give them the dispatch they deserve. To Death's embrace!" The Kherubim woman heading to a sprint, hair flying behind her as she went to flank after Cole. As Cole commented upon the lack of haste of the intruders, Zealot went to snap back, "Then they are overconfident of their breach and will pay the price for thier violation." Nemesis lets out a wordless, almost-silent snarl as she spies the blinking lights. "Stay behind me, little one," she says, activating her bodysuit's shielding. "I thought you said the nice people who would save me live here!" the little girl's voice says, panicked and accusing in that way only small children can manage. "I did," Nemesis replies dryly. "It is complicated--" is all she can offer as an explaination before the door at the end of the corridor opens. Grifter is in the lead as the WildCATs barrel down the corridor. He rounds a corner and drops into a slide that leaves him crouching against the wall, bringing his pistols up to draw a bead on both intruders. Now...Grifter gets a lot of crap from his teammates for his supposedly trigger-happy ways, but the truth of the matter is that Grifter is a professional, and far more aware of the situation and surroundings than he normally lets on. So while there's no sense of actual hesitation from him as he keeps the weapons aimed, he doesn't pull the triggers straightaway. Instead, he comments, "Uhhh, guys? We've got a smoking hot babe and a kid in Corridor 3. This isn't really looking like our garden-variety bad guys." Hadrian could overtake Grifter if he so chose, but he's letting Zealot and Grifter lead the way...mostly because he doesn't feel like having to get limbs replaced if he gets in front of them when they -do- choose to attack. "A...child?" Spartan comments, frowning as he moves to join Grifter (and Zealot). "Can you Identify, Grifter?" "Nope. Never seen 'em before." Cole replies readily enough. Zealot pauses. Her swords high. But she can recognize a mother protecting a child at the cost of her own safety. So her swords lowered. Just a hair. Eyes narrowed. "Who are you, and why did you come here?" One would not come here with a child unless they had nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe, at least. Swords slowly going down. Just a hair. Nemesis steps out of the shadows into the light, so that Zealot can see her, the child following in her wake, staying behind Charis, just as she said to do. She stands in a defensive position-- a /Coda/ defesive position. "Greetings, Zannah," the white-haired woman's former protege says flippantly. "I thought I might stop by. See your new place." Her gaze flits to Cole, and then to Hadrian behind them. "Yohn." She's not moving to attack, but her body is poised to spring. And though Cole may not know her, the other two definitely would. And they would know what she is capable of. "This lady a friend of yours, or do I shoot? We're usually not too friendly with folks that have Coda training." Which does clue Charis in that Grifter knows what to look for where such things are concerned. "Hadrian, are they Daemonites?" "Hadrian." Spartan corrects Charis, for he is NOT truly Yohn Kohl. He has much of the man's knowledge, even more of his personality, and wears his face, but not truly his memories or emotional connections (which is probably why he's remaining quite calm despite being faced with the infamous "Nemesis." Still, it would be easy to mistake them, and Charis may not be aware of the fate that befell the original Yohn Kohl. His eyes flash crimson as a bio-scan is directed at both Charis and Kara. They won't feel a thing, of course. "Grifter...Zealot...stand down. There's something wrong with the girl, and I don't think getting her upset or hurt is going to be a good idea." He focuses more on Kara now, trying to make sense of the...more than odd readings he's getting from her, "But no...they're not Daemonites." Zealot's eyes narrowed to thin slits then. "Charis." Cole likely recognizing her body language as burning in near raw hate. "Remove the child from the room." She will not kill in front of the woman's daughter. She has that much honor, at least. Her blades clenched as tightly at her sides, vision narrowed to laser thin slits. All of her body language reading one wordless word that even the blind could tell radiating off her. Traitor. "They did something to the girl," Charis says to Hadrian, not taking her eyes off Zealot for a moment, even as her words are directed to Spartan. "They called the project 'Lazarus'. They wanted to activate her-- I'm not sure how-- and use her to help conquer this planet's people." Nemesis reaches back, and draws Kara forward. "Go," she says quietly. Go to the nice man, 'Hadrian'." If that's what Yohn was calling himself these days, so be it. Charis had gone through dozens of names herself over the millenia. "He will take you to someone who can help you. Trust him." She considers Grifter. "I don't know about the other one, though." Her voice is purposely light, in and attempt to keep the little girl calm. Kara looks between Nemesis and the three very dangerous folk at the other end of the hallway. "Aren't you coming?" Charis grins down at the child, then shoves her slightly forward. Kara stumbles a bit, then slowly takes a couple more steps down the hall as instructed, towards Hadrian and Cole. "I told you. It's complicated." Her thumb runs over the hilt of her blade, and she regards Zealot strangely. "You will make sure the girl is kept from the Daemonites, Sister?" In retrospect, perhaps not the best time to address Zannah as such. "I'd hate to have broken in here for nothing." "This is one of those things where I'm going to get stabbed if I get in the way or try to help, isn't it?" Cole queries towards Zannah nonchalantly, and promptly tucks his pistols into the back-waistband of his jeans. "Spartan? What's the call?" He glances towards the red-headed android, who nods back at him. "As I said...stand down. Emp needs to take a look at her. Between the two of us, and possibly Jeremy...we should be able to help her." He rather strategically doesn't mention the -other- supra-genius that's known to hang around from time-to-time...y'know...who built this place. And used to sleep with Charis. "All right kiddo...I'm Cole, this is Hadrian. We're gonna take you to a guy that can help you. Make sure to think it's really funny that you're as tall as he is." Cole looks a bit pensively between Zannah and Charis, "And your hot mom is going to uh...have a long and in-depth conversation with Zealot here." Zealot glances over, "You slaughtered them all. If you have come here, it is to complete your path for loss of honor. I will not skewer you in front of the child. But you will not gain an honorable death. Do not try and justify what you have done." Her blade is up and pointed. Over at Charis' throat. "And do not insult me by calling me Sister, traitor." Kara wrinkles her nose. "I'm as tall as he is?" she begins to ask curiously. "And wait, she's not my Mom--" Charis narrows her eyes. "You're right. THeir deaths are on my hands, but not in the way you think, /Sister/. Do you think I would return here alone if all I wished to see was your deaths? I could have brought an army of Daemonites with me, but I didn't." She watches Zealot's expression, and then her blade flashes as it moves quickly through the air-- and the zsssph of the sword sliding into the sheath at her side can be heard. "It was Raven. The Brotherhood destroyed our Sisterhood, /Sister/ Zealot. And I will be /damned/ if I let them win again. That's why I brought the girl." She stands there, unmoving for a moment, then her hand brushes her side, unclipping the swordbelt. Her weapon clatters to the ground. "Kill me, or have Lord Majestros do it himself-- but that child is the culmination of the efforts of the Daemonites and their Brotherhood lackeys, and if my death is what you need to guarantee they will not prevail?" Her voice grows icy. "So be it." Her sword was out and still pointed over at Charis' throat then. Not wavering an inch then. "You make such claims then. I hope that you can show them. Because the word of a traitor carries no currency. And for what you have done your life would otherwise be forfeit. Should you try and hide your dishonor by placing it upon another." Zealot's words were harsh then. "I will not accept your voice unless you have something beyond what you claim. And the only reason your head does not grace the floor is because I will not kill you in front of a youngling." Eyes flashing, "And do you take me for a fool then? Do not doubt me /Sister/ that I would be baited so readily. But those who commit such treasonous atrocity do not gain a death of honor. Should you die by my hand it would be like a pig." "You might be taller." Cole grins at Kara, reaching up to ruffle her hair and hopefully totally keeping her distracted from the whole Killy-deathy business that's being bandied about by the two Coda warriors. "C'mon Hadrian, lets go introduce her to Jake." He glances over his shoulder, "You know...-right now.-" Spartan studies Zealot and Charis intently a few moments, and comes to the entirely logical conclusion that this is going to have to play out of the ladies' own accord. "Right." He comments to Zealot before he goes, "The girl -does- have some fundamental genetic manipulation. I've seen the patterns before...in fragmentary data from World-Shaper remnants." It may not be enough to stay Zealot's hand, but it at least lends some credence to Charis' story. "Kara, it's a pleasure to meet you." Spartan kneels down near the girl, "Like Cole said, let's go meet another new friend." And with that, he'll move along with Grifter to try to usher the girl back towards where Emp is no-doubt waiting, given that Spartan's been relaying the events back to him. Nemesis waits, silently, patiently, for the men to begin to leave. "Think, Sister. The Brotherhood parts ways with the rest of the Kherans after the death of the Sisterhood." Her eyes narrow. "They framed me. I /will/ have Raven's head one day, myself, for this." She pauses. "Their treachery, that you call mine, goes further back, Lady Zannah. I have been hunting them since I left. I have crossed paths with Raven thrice now, and each time, he has barely escaped my wrath. But the last time, he admitted-- they brought down our ship. It was no accident, no simple damage in battle." Her head lifts, and she stares Zealot full on. "Raven killed him-- the boy. Majestrate. So they could sabotage the ship. They had been working with the Daemonites from the beginning." It all makes sense. Zealot's instincts, her focus, tells her that what Nemesis saying is true. But her greatest weakness, her pride, fights over with it. "I said proof. not babble. If you do not have something greater then your word you are wasting our time." Her blade still held up and out then, not wavering a bit then. Glancing over at Spartan out of the corner of her eye. "She is one of the Coda, and has their training. Do we have something that is capable of holding her?" For Zealot, not killing her outright and instead asking if they had a cell she could be put in was likely a very subtle sign she was at least willing to listen. Spartan actually hesitates a half-moment, then nods, "We do." He tilts his head as Cole ushers Kara further away, "Should I prepare it, then?" A half nod is given over from Zealot to Spartan, "Yes, and prepare quarters for the youngling as well. And we will see as to whether there is any proof of her story." Category:Historical Log